Procrastination Fascination
by vratsababe
Summary: Lucius is facing a deadline. He must either turn in a personal statement to Slughorn or toss away all hopes of becoming Head Boy. Dedicated to who are applying, have applied, or will apply to college :D


_This particular story is dedicated to all of you out there who have faced deadlines and writer's block... it happens to all of us... even Lucius Malfoy. :D_

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"_It will be a fucking miracle if I can get this done on time,"_ Lucius thought, turning his quill over in his spidery fingers. A rather blank sheet of parchment lay before him, staring blankly up at him, questioning why there weren't words written across its façade. Frankly, Lucius was wondering the same thing.

All of the sixth year prefects were asked to write a personal statement (if they were interesting) regarding their qualifications for the Head Boy or Head Girl position next year. Lucius had been the first to get the prompt from Professor McGonagall, yet he was sure he was the only one who hadn't turned it in yet. He wanted this position; he wanted the prestige and he wanted the power more than he had wanted a lot of things in his seventeen years.

He absentmindedly scratched his cheek with the pointed side of the quill and hastily wiped away the ink at the realization of his folly. A deep blue smudge of ink was streaked across his pale face and across the back of his hand, which was still failing to make words. He knew what he was going to write… it was just the writing part that was becoming more and more difficult as he waited.

Tonight the rough draft would be finished; he declared that fact to himself firmly. He could get all of the editing done tomorrow and rewrite it to have it turned in by the following date—a full week and a half before the deadline. The prompt was simple enough… it would be done in plenty of time.

"Describe a negative interaction that you have had with another person. What happened, how did you react, and how did you respond to the other person? How did the other person react to your response?" He reread the prompt for the millionth time. He had plenty of negative interactions with people; this should be simple, right? He put his quill down to the paper and didn't look up for almost an hour.

When he did look back into the world of the non-writing, he was pretty sure his well of inspiration had run dry. He hadn't completed a cohesive essay; he had only managed to write two introductions to the same paper, just phrased differently. He rolled his eyes and stood from his secluded table in the corner of the library. It was far too quiet; perhaps he should go back to the common room? No, he would just get distracted… however… maybe food would help his brain to breathe.

He pulled a candy bar from Honeydukes from his backpack and slyly opened the package. The librarian could hear a food container from a mile away and he couldn't risk getting thrown out of his spot, but he had to have brain fuel. Surely enough, as he was finishing the chocolate, Madame Pince rounded the corner with a stack of books and a familiar look of disgust on her face.

"Are you eating in my library?" She said in her bothered whisper. Lucius shook his head, trying his best to look completely astounded that anyone would eat in a library. Frustrated with a lack of evidence, the bookkeeper continued on her way and Lucius leaned back against his chair once again.

It must have been another hour and Lucius had completed three paragraphs on one intro and had scrapped the other. He had finished his paper… all except for the conclusion and it was the conclusion that absolutely murdered him most of the time. He rested his head against the table; half wishing the ideas would seep out of his brain and onto the paper. It was early evening and dinner was looming on the horizon, but he couldn't quit now. Only one more paragraph… just one more little tiny paragraph. The word count on his word counting quill read 435, which meant he had under seventy words to meet the requirement for the essay… just seventy words and he would be free for the rest of the evening.

Dinner was almost finished when he wandered into the cavernous Great Hall. He strode over to the Slytherin table and plopped himself down between Severus and Arion Bode, helping himself to whatever it was in the bowl before him.

"Did you finish?" Severus asked him, passing him the pitcher of lemonade.

"Basically," Lucius replied. "I hate writing; have I ever told you that?"

Severus nodded, "Once or twice just this morning. You don't have anything to worry about; you'll get the position and you know it."

Lucius shook his head, "I don't really care if I get it or not, just as long as I never have to write another damn personal statement."


End file.
